


Wrong Place, Right Time

by tigerlady (shetiger)



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-29
Updated: 2010-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetiger/pseuds/tigerlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stakeout in a bar doesn't go quite the way it was planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Place, Right Time

**Author's Note:**

> Note of warning: Vague discussion of an unsub's method of choosing victims.
> 
> I wrote this for a request on a kissing comment meme fest, but then I totally lost where that was! So, if whoever made the request sees this, I hope you enjoy! Thank you to [](http://smittywing.livejournal.com/profile)[**smittywing**](http://smittywing.livejournal.com/) for giving this the once over (and totally correcting my apostrophe fail). 1700 words.

"Punch me later," is all the warning Emily gets before Dave's crowding into her space, his hand coming up to cradle the side of her head. She's actually parting her lips, tipping her head so slightly for that perfect angle, before her brain catches up to reality. Adrenaline surges through her, part embarrassment, part shock, part something else that she doesn't want to think about to closely--and then she catches a glimpse of Marks over Dave's shoulder, taking a seat on the bar stool almost directly opposite their table's alcove.

"Did he make you?" she whispers, figuring this close, Dave's mic will pick it up if hers doesn't.

"I don't think so," Dave murmurs. His aftershave is distracting, in that way that makes her want to turn her head into his neck to see if that's the source. Normally she'd back out of his space, get some literal fresh air, but she doesn't have that option now.

"What's the situation?" Hotch breaks in. His voice grounds her in what's really going on, reminds her that this whole situation is just for show.

"Marks just showed up," Emily reports. The normalcy of it steadies her pulse even further, making it easier to continue. "He's right across from us, and there's a mirror over the bar."

"Damn." The curse is soft, probably not meant to be heard. "And no sign of Kendrick yet?"

Dave opens his mouth, but he doesn't say anything. It finally occurs to Emily that there's no way he can really see anything going on in the bar from his position.

"Not yet," she says.

"He might not show," Dave says. "I got an awfully funny feeling off Marks earlier. What if he's our guy's advance scout?"

"Partners?" Emily says, nearly pulling back from Dave in surprise. His fingers tighten, just enough to remind her of what they're doing, and she relaxes back into their tête-a-tête. "As narcissistic as Kendrick is?"

"It might suit his ego to get somebody else to do this part for him. Especially if he sees it as below himself." Dave sounds so collected, but the pulse in his neck is racing under her fingers. She doesn't even remember when she put her hand there, but since it looks more natural for her to be touching him back, she leaves it.

"We'll just have to wait and see at this point," Hotch says. "Stay sharp and don't draw any attention to yourselves."

Dave snorts. She pulls back far enough that she can raise a questioning eyebrow at him. He shakes his head and presses his cheek to hers again. "I'm just glad I pulled you on this assignment, and not Reid," he says, the softest yet. Not soft enough, though, because Reid squawks "hey!" before somebody, probably Morgan, shushes him on the other end of the line. It's enough to get her giggling, and she drops her face to Dave's neck, riding them out.

When the fit passes, she's still pressed against him, breathing him in. His fingers are curled tight into her shoulder.

Emily wants to open her mouth and taste his skin. It would be so easy to do. She could say it was part of the act. No big deal--except for the part where they'd both know exactly what she'd done.

Instead, Emily lifts her head and shifts so that there's a little bit more space between them. Her head is still between Dave's and the aisle, though with Marks _right there_ it's not that much cover. She brings her hand up, cupping his cheek in an effort to obscure his face even more.

"How long do you think this is going to take?" she murmurs. Dave's twisted into a position that can't be that comfortable, after all, and it's going to look a little odd if they stay this way all night. Not to mention the fact that their waitress is going to get pretty annoyed with them after a while.

"We're sending JJ in," Hotch answers. "If he doesn't bite in half an hour, we'll get you out of there."

Emily bites her lip. JJ can take care of herself, but it's always hard when any of them are in an Unsub's sights. They'd been hoping to avoid having to do that with this stakeout.

"I should have figured out he had a partner," Dave growls, his thoughts obviously taking the same route as hers.

"So you're psychic now?"

Dave frowns at her--or more likely, at her invoking the word 'psychic' in relation to himself--but then he sighs and his lips quirk against her thumb. Her thumb, which really shouldn't be stroking over the soft hair of his beard or darting so close to his mouth. _Get it together, girl,_ she tells herself, but Dave's kind of pressing into her touch, and she can't make herself stop.

"JJ's in," Hotch says. Emily just barely avoids snatching her hand back. She takes a deep breath and then _naturally, very naturally_ drops her hand and leans forward so she can get a better look.

"I see her." JJ's at the end of the bar closest to the door, right at the edge of Emily's line of sight. She finishes talking to the bartender and swivels on her stool so that Emily can see her face. "Whoa. You guys really did a number on her."

All of the victims have been middle-aged blondes, most of them housewives looking for an escape for just one night. Emily hates the term 'cougar' with all her being, but it fits, especially from what they've learned in their interviews. She would have said JJ was far too young (and classy) to ever pull it off, but even from here she can tell her makeup is a little too outrageous, a little too heavy. Her hair is slightly teased, nothing particularly unfashionable, but in a way that says she remembers the eighties easily. The clothes, though. Later, she is sooo going to ask JJ if someone went out and bought that push-up bra for her, or if it's something she regularly packs in her go-bag.

"Let's just hope he buys it," Morgan says.

"There's no better candidate here." That's a relief, actually. As much as she hates JJ being a target, thinking about waiting for an innocent to fall into the Unsub's trap makes her gut churn. Maybe this turn of events is the better one, after all.

Apparently she's broadcasting her emotions, because Dave strokes his hand over her shoulder, then pulls her into a hug. It'd be totally inappropriate in any other situation, and it's not exactly the big make-out scene they're trying to portray, but it feels damn good right now. Emily lays her head on his shoulder, still watching JJ but letting herself have this comfort.

Marks steps away from the bar.

"Bingo," she murmurs, watching him swagger his way down to JJ. He's a pretty good-looking guy by Hollywood standards, but even without meeting him the only thing she feels is repulsion. A woman out on the town wouldn't know what she knows, though, and JJ greets him with a warm smile that manages to carry a hint of shyness and vulnerability with it.

Dave scoots back a little, turning his head from side to side enough that it gives off a couple audible cracks. Emily feels a bit of a chill now that he's not holding her, even though she's too warm in the blazer that hides her Glock. She doesn't take her eyes off JJ, and very firmly tells herself that she's not disappointed that they're mostly in the clear now.

"How's it going back there?" Dave asks.

She risks a quick look his way; he's staring at her mouth. Emily clears her throat and goes back to her surveillance, just in time to see JJ drain whatever was in her tumbler and hop off of the stool. "They're on the move."

"That was quick work," Dave says, but Emily hardly even hears him.

"Crap," she says as Marks takes JJ's elbow and turns her towards the back entrance. "They're coming this way."

There's no time to explain, no time to even think about what she's about to do. She just grabs Dave's face with both hands and pulls him in for what's probably the most awkward kiss ever.

It doesn't stay awkward for long.

Dave tilts his head slightly, catching her right hand in his and pulling it away from his face so that they've got more freedom to move. He catches her bottom lip between his lips, then brushes a softer kiss over both. Emily gasps, and then they meet open-mouthed, a full-out first-night lovers' kiss that has her gripping his hand tightly. Dave's not gentlemanly at all now, tongue finding hers, and Emily gives back just as good.

She only breaks away from him when she drops her covering hand to the top button of his shirt. Emily glances around, worried, but Marks and JJ are long gone. It takes all of her courage to meet Dave's gaze again. Once she does, she has to reach for that willpower yet again so she doesn't go diving in for another kiss.

"We've got him," Hotch says. "Meet us out back."

"Is JJ okay?" Emily asks.

Somebody snorts. "Kendrick tried to knock her out," Morgan says. "Let's just say she wasn't the one surprised."

"That's our girl," Dave says, smiling. Emily smiles back at him, because yes, JJ is just that awesome, but then he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. He leans in, mouth next to the unmic'd ear, and whispers, "I'd like to continue our conversation later, if that's all right with you."

Emily squeezes his shoulder, then pulls away from him, grabs her purse and scoots out of the booth. He doesn't move, just looks up at her like he's not sure what's going on.

"I hope this guy caves quick," she says, and not having to whisper is its own relief. "I've got better things to do with my time than to listen to his crap all night."

Dave's smile is slow and dirty. Emily winks at him, then turns and heads for the back door.

 

END


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